


The Underground

by amarmeme



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Little Black Dress, Smut, dancefloor shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 09:44:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17896148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarmeme/pseuds/amarmeme
Summary: Casarra and Reyes reunite after weeks apart, meeting at the Underground, a club on Kadara that Reyes promises will be worth the special trip.





	The Underground

**Author's Note:**

> Posted as part of the Leather and Lace Month hosted by Vorchagirl, startsandskies and Alyssalenko! Filling the prompt Little Black Dress by Alyssalenko -- and coincidentally I had about 2/3 of this story already written. So, thank you for the little push to complete it. ;)

_ One Year After Meridian _

 

The Underground is gooooood. We could get lost here, to the music, to each other.

I can barely picture the last time you danced with me. 

Feel pity for a man

So lonely at night without his lover

21:09

You’re right

We should fix that

21:09

...

21:10

 

You can’t just say that and leave the conversation!

21:12

 

I stepped away!  I went up to the bridge    
I was talking to Kallo just now

21:15

 

You’re coming tonight?   
21:15

No  _ you’re _ coming tonight.

I mean, me too

Obviously

21:16

  
  
  
  


It’s been an entire year since she met Reyes Vidal: smuggler, Sheena,  _ Charlatan.  _ She just calls him boyfriend (or lover, or bun -- sometimes even  _ cowboy  _ with an eye roll when he’s particularly smug about something). Pathfinding takes her away often, but Casarra makes every effort to fuel up in Kadara. The port’s flourishing, and not just for the Outcasts. Under Keema’s leadership, and Reyes’ machinations, Kadara’s become a true community. There’s still bandits and crime spread out in the badlands, but things are much better. Turned out people just needed a little push back to center. No one came to Andromeda to be a criminal; they’d had enough hardship in the Milky Way to last a lifetime. 

“Approaching Kadara,” Kallo says. “Less than ten minutes to the LZ, Ryder.”

“Thanks, Kallo!” Casarra is unable to hide the excitement in her voice. 

She blinks away her Omni-tool, done rereading the messages from Reyes for the tenth time in as many minutes. He wants her to come to a new club, something called the Underground. It sounds like Tartarus, (isn’t that underground technically too?) but Casarra doesn’t need much convincing. If Reyes can’t remember what it was like to dance with her, then it's really time to fix that.

Excited, she slips through the automatic doors before they’re completely open, skidding down a ladder to her quarters below. Casarra flips on some music first, getting keyed up for a night of dancing in Kadara, and whatever else Reyes has to offer. She shimmies to her closet. It turns out to be a big disappointment. She stashes clothes all over Heleus -- at the Nexus, Scott's apartment in Meridian, Reyes’ place in the Badlands and his hideout at Tartarus -- but all that hangs up besides official Initiative gear is the leather jacket she always wears. Not that Casarra dislikes her leather jacket. It screams _ casual  _ instead of “I’m the Pathfinder,” which is all you could really want in an outfit. 

Casarra needs help. She speaks into her comms at first, before realizing they’re on the ship. No one has their comms in. More and more the mission habits run into the everyday. It's hard to remember what her life was like  _ before  _ this job.

“SAM,” she says instead. “Will you ask Peebs, Suvi, Cora and, hey, even Vetra, to come down here? And with their best dancing clothes.” Casarra holds up a sleeveless shirt with Blasto across the front. She sighs and throws it back in the closet. It must have been a joke. She has no idea how she got it.

“I’ve relayed the message, Ryder. They’re on the way now.” 

Waiting for her friends, Casarra shakes her hips to the music, sashaying across the room. Her heart beats faster than it should be for a regular jam session, and she’s surprised SAM doesn’t comment. He’s probably figured out her pre-Reyes jitters by now though. Added to the fact that she hasn't seen Reyes in weeks, she feels all sort of flutters inside. It's just good that SAM doesn’t comment on what’s happening below the waistline, because one time was more than enough. Reyes’ face when he had heard, “You’re temperature's rising, Pathfinder,” was far too pleased. His ego was big enough most days. 

The door swishes open behind her.   


“Are we dancing? I could dance.”

Peebee bolts in, butting up to Casarra, doing a little wiggle move. They do a one-two-hip bump, and laugh as they smack into each other harder than intended. Peebee carries a few dresses under her arm, and throws them onto the bed one by one. 

“This one says, ‘I just got away with your wallet.’ And this one says, ‘You wouldn’t even care if I took your shuttle.’”

“I knew you would have the goods!” 

The first option is black, and short, short. Casarra can already picture herself in it, the cutaway geometric designs on the sides peeking the tattoo on her hip. Reyes would like that. Very much. The other is even more revealing, barely two strips of shimmering gold cloth hung together with metal chains. The links glow, a bright red. She peers closer, picking up a the dress between two fingers. It's pretty flimsy.

“Is that...”

“Remtech. Yep.” Peebee shifts a hand to her hip, talking with the other one. “Got the idea from your armor. Figure these parts weren’t getting used so why not beat someone else to it? I’m sure people will be copying the Pathfinder’s style for decades.”

“That’s a scary thought.” Vetra joins them, already in her dance-wear, a dark purple two piece that shows off her waist and the tops of her hips. It criss-crosses around her midsection. Casarra's jaw drops. 

“I should be mad at that comment, but you look... Vetra, oh my.”

“This isn't my first off-the-grid club,” she says. Vetra twists, showing off her waist. “I would have brought some options for you, but we're nowhere near the same ratios.”

Casarra laughs. “Good point.” 

Cora and Suvi join shortly thereafter, along what seems to be Cora’s entire closet. Casarra blinks, the armful of bright fabrics the last thing she expected to see in her second’s possession. Cora arranges them out on the bed next to Peebee's in rainbow order. 

“I'm hoping I can borrow one of those too,” says Suvi. Her eyes widen at the options. “I don't know the last time I went dancing.”

“Let me guess, more than 600 years ago?” Vetra jokes.

“Right,” Suvi says. “You know -- probably. That's a shame.”

“We’re doing it tonight at least,” Cora adds. She steps back from the bed, offering up the items for closer inspection. “I know what you're thinking. Where did I possibly get all this?”

“You're right. That's exactly what I'm thinking.” Casarra holds up a deep blue number, long sleeves and an open back, with sequins darting across the dress in whorls of lighter blue. It looks like a biotic dream. The light above her bed reflects off the sequins, cascading cerulean waves over the rest of the outfits. 

“I can’t possibly take this one. You have to wear this, Cora!” 

Her second smiles serenely, taking the dress back out of offered hands. “It is my favorite. Believe it or not, we did have downtimes between missions as part of the commandos. I had a lot of clothes to share with my asari squadmates. Some of these aren’t even mine.”

The ship lands, and while the Tempest flies as smooth as silk, they all work on their balance as the ship settles in the docks. Casarra takes a breath to relax her nerves, and starts picking her favorites. She holds up a few to be judged by committee: a daring green number with outrageous shoulder pads reminiscent of her armor; a coral jumpsuit with leopard print; a boat-neck black dress with a drop back and a scalloped hemline; and the original, geometric cut-out black dress Peebee brought. They settle on the little black dress while Suvi finds an outfit too and changes into it -- a sheer, black long-sleeved crop top and high waisted black cigarette pants that slim down to her calves. Her red hair stands out like a jewel. 

Casarra, Cora and Peebee change quickly, Vetra offering a zip here or there, Cora running up to get a pair of heels for Suvi. With luck, Casarra remembers a pair of ankle boots buried under her bed from the last time she’d dressed up in Kadara. 

“Should we get the guys?” Casarra asks, head beneath the bed. “What about Lexi?”

“You don’t think the doctor's up for clubbing do you?” Peebee says. “Although, it  _ is  _ exercise so she’ll probably won’t lecture you, Ryder.”

Suvi pipes up, fixing a pair of earrings Casarra had stashed in a drawer along with a velvet choker. “Lexi already has plans with Drack. We asked on the way down.”

“Ha!” Peebee jumps up from her perch on the bed, dress chains clanking with the movement. “That’s just too perfect.”

“Don’t say anything,” Vetra warns. “Just let them do --  _ whatever _ it is they plan on.” She shoots a glare that would slay anyone else, but Peebee just shrugs. They both roll their eyes before heading towards the doors. “I’ll go round up the rest and see if they want to join,” Vetra adds. 

Casarra zips up her last boot and straightens her dress. She can't remember the last time everyone’s been this excited. And definitely not in Kadara Port. Usually she's the only one really smiling. But in looking around, all her friends look like they're anticipating something truly good. Cora and Suvi laugh about something while Peebee plays with her Omni-tool, a wicked gleam in her eyes. Vetra shows up a minute later, Gil at her heels, already dressed for the occasion in a dark grey henley and nicer dress pants than she’s seen in, well, centuries. 

“Not going to leave without me were you?” he asks. Casarra grins sheepishly. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re here now! And you dressed fast.”    


“Yea, this one here was giving orders.” He gestures at Vetra, who nods. 

“This it?” Casarra asks Vetra. 

It’s a yes -- Kallo reportedly would have rather taken an eye out, and Liam and Jaal plan to watch a movie and avoid Kadara altogether. Sick of waiting any longer, Casarra whips her hands in the air in an ushering manner, moving the crew out of her room. 

“SAM, you're not giving Reyes a head's up on my ETA are you?” she asks. 

“No, Mr. Vidal has just provided me with the coordinates to the location. You'll find them in your navigation, Pathfinder.”

“Perfect,” she says, while Peebee shouts, “I’ll drive!”

 

Gil ends up driving. Casarra’s terrible at navigation, and Peebee is far too reckless in the light of day, let alone the darkening night. They drive for at least twenty minutes, an asari and three humans crammed in the back. Vetra easily deserved the passenger seat, and was more than happy to keep an eye out for bandits along the route. They know they’ve arrived by the array of shuttles and vehicles parked outside of a dark cave mouth at the base of a mountain.

Casarra’s never been out to this part of Kadara, and a flash of panic runs through her. It would be a stupid way to die, lured out to a dark part of the badlands, far from the eyes of the Port. Then she remembers Reyes is waiting. He’d given her the coordinates after all, and she knew she could trust him. The entrance to the club is creepy though. A single light on an extension cord flickers by the break in the mountainside. 

The Underground lives up to its name. Casarra and the others follow the cave down, down down. The beat of the music can be felt before it's heard, chips of rocks vibrating beneath their feet as they get further into the cave system. The path splits at a few points, but the flickering string of lights is all they need to find their way. The base grows louder, and when they turn an impossibly tight corner, the cavern opens up before them. 

It’s incredible. 

The flickering bulbs lead them to a dark paradise, pulsing strobe lights of red and blue alternating over a sea of bodies moving to the heavy music. The crowd’s larger than the shuttles outside led on, at least 200 people move as a mass -- asaris, turians, humans, angara even a few salarians and krogan. Two bars are set up on either side of the cavern, the Initiative’s prefab housing used in the most appropriate manner. A stage is set up near the front, with towering speakers that must have been several people’s weight allotment or brought in from an angaran’s club. Gil and the ladies head towards a bar, bodies already beginning to sway to the music. It's hard not to move. The music is so loud and overwhelming, but in a good way; if you can't hear yourself think, you can't think about anything bad. Clearly only good vibes exist in this space. There are more pairs exchanging fluids than not, whether sweat slicked skin or or twisting tongues. The energy of the Underground is primal. 

Casarra's heart races as she searches for Reyes. The bwam-bwam-bwam of the base consumes her focus and Reyes isn’t sticking out of the crowd. Which, of course he wouldn’t. He always liked a dramatic entrance. 

She decides to let him find her. It will be more fun that way, being chased for a little while. She already did her part, flying the Tempest in for one night. Casarra joins her crew at the bar. Peebee and Suvi already are in the thick of it all, dancing like mad with drinks in their hands in the middle of the crowd. Vetra moves back from the bartop to give Casarra space to order, and Gil and Cora seem to be in a sort of loud discussion using a lot of wile hand gesturing.  

“I’ll take whatever he’s drinking,” Casarra yells to the bartender, pointing at Gil to her left. In quick succession, the woman behind the bar shakes and pours her something strong. Casarra raises her Omni-tool for the woman to take her credits, and is waved away. 

“Pathfinder drinks free.” She winks. The bartender’s gaze drifts to someone behind Casarra with a telling look. A warm pair of hands snake onto Casarra’s hips, just where the cutouts of her dress are. 

“You think I would charge my lover to drink at my club?” Reyes says hotly into her ear. Casarra laughs and shakes her head. 

“I should have known.” 

She rests back against his chest, tilting her head up to capture a kiss. She melts at the contact, warmth flooding her limbs and filling her heart. At first she was nervous, anxious. It had been weeks since she’d last seen Reyes. Months even if she really recounts the days. Now they're reunited and she remembers how  _ right _ it is. Reyes spins her out to the dancing mass, hands magnetized to the spots where her skin shows, skimming over soft, smooth flesh. Goosebumps chase up her sides. The lights pulse in time with the beats. From one moment to the next the entire crowd is hidden, then neon glare casts them as sinners. It’s hard to see where one person ends and the next begins, but Reyes hands on her are solid. Casarra lets them guide her and lets go of any pent up frustrations. Tonight she can just get lost, just as Reyes had promised. 

Time passes slowly, quickly, she can’t tell. Reyes traces the curves of her body, grinds into her back, want very evident. Casarra feels beads of sweat trickle down the back of her neck and she lifts her hair to cool off. Reyes bends down to kiss her neck, sending a shiver of need in herself as well. She moans and presses back against him, the relative darkness and anonymity of the Underground freeing her inhibitions. He slides a hand underneath the cutout of her dress, inching past her thong. She freezes, closed eyes popping wide open, scanning the crowd. 

“No one is watching,” he reassures. And Reyes is right. No one is watching them. She’d be a fool to think no one else was messing around on the dance floor. She relaxes, and Reyes murmurs into her ear, “That’s my girl.”

The excitement about doing something indecent courses through her. Fingers press and circle and stop, then repeat over and over until the high of the atmosphere matches the high within her. They never stop dancing, grinding, moving to the rapturous music. Reyes’ other hand presses against her chest, and when he gets into a particularly perfect groove, she grabs his wrist. Breath hitches in her chest, she tips her head back and she laugh-groans as the sensation slides through her. She feels so light she could fly up to the cave roof, and would, were it not for Reyes holding her down. 

He slides his hand back and Casarra spins around, pushing on his chest. She can’t take the smile off her face, especially seeing his smug, satisfied expression. But beneath his waistline, it's clear there’s more for them to take care of now, and while this little indecency was fun, she’s not willing to do that in a crowd. 

“Alright, cowboy. There must be an off-shoot somewhere that you call your office, right? Because I did promise you’d be coming too...”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he winks. He pulls her by the hand and they shuffle out of there quickly, practically racing for an exit. Casarra will have to find her crew later. She knows they’ll understand. Nights on Kadara are what she looks forward to most in the world.    
  


**Author's Note:**

> And then they go have cave sex...


End file.
